


slow fixes

by spookykingdomstarlight



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Fade to Black, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Having Faith, Intimacy, M/M, Post-Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, Pre-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-23 17:36:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9669029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookykingdomstarlight/pseuds/spookykingdomstarlight
Summary: Luke hadn’t found his way onto theFalconbefore, not while it was under Lando’s care at least, and the effect of his arrival was immediate. He wouldn’t have gone so far as to say the place seemed brighter with Luke there—that would have been ridiculous, and not true. TheFalconwas every bit as smudgy and poorly lit as ever. It still carried grunge in its crevices that was probably older than all of them put together. There was enough wisdom in Lando’s heart to lead him to the right conclusion: it wasn’t theFalconthat had changed.It was him.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gloss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloss/gifts).



Even with Chewie there, the _Falcon_ felt empty, devoid of everything that had originally made it so enviable to Lando, to a lot of people, to Han, who finally got it out from under him. Lando didn’t want to think it was due to Han’s absence from her cockpit, the mess, the lounge, her sleeping quarters, but he had trouble justifying the lack any other way. It had never really been about filling her with people and cargo; she just wasn’t the same without him. And even though he knew he was doing what he could to right that wrong, it wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be enough until he’d seen this through, but seeing it through had already taken months and looked likely to take months more.

He’d only just started learning how to be patient and here that skill was being stretched to the limit. That patience had earned him the stewardship of a city, but credit for credit, this was the harder situation to be in.

The comm unit crackled to life, Chewie’s voice a roar from inside the tinny speakers that startled him from the moroseness of his own thoughts. “You better get down here,” he said in Shyriiwook, his words roughened by the annoyance he must have been feeling, too.

Lando sighed and dragged his palm over his face. Stars sparkled outside the viewport, the Rebel fleet catching the cold, distant light that pricked the void around the _Falcon_. They didn’t often make their way back, but sometimes Mon Mothma wanted to hear from them in person. Why she might want that when all he had to say was, “We got nothing,” was beyond him, but he wasn’t in any position to argue with her here. If he wanted to be the one to get Han back, he had to play by her rules. And sometimes, those rules were pointless from this side of them. But he knew how to deal with pointless. It shouldn’t have been hard.

“I’m on my way, Chewbacca,” he called back, biting back a complaint about how slow moving the Rebellion was. Honestly, how long did it take to refuel anyway? And Chewie’d long ago banned him from helping with repairs; they’d both had enough of arguing over the best way to mend the fuel lines or the hyperdrive coils or, stars forbid, the main computer. That likely didn’t help him feel any more happy about the situation.

 _It used to be you could do it_ , he thought. _But Han’s made too many modifications. She’s not yours anymore_.

Pushing himself out of the pilot’s seat, he trudged toward the back of the ship and the entry hatch. The _Falcon’s_ corridors seemed smaller all the time; he found himself surprised how quickly he got where he needed to be, Chewie’s large, furry frame taking up the bulk of the entry.

“All right,” he said, “I’m here. What did you—”

Chewie stepped aside. The sight he’d blocked shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was.

“—Luke,” he said, because he knew how to land on his feet. Surprise only held him back for so long. “How are you? You’re looking good.”

Smiling faintly, Luke glanced up at the ceiling and around at the walls, before his eyes settled on Lando. They were so keen, so _fathomless_ , that Lando wondered what he saw when he looked at Lando. Whatever it was, though, Lando probably didn’t actually want the answer.

“You’re not looking so bad yourself, Lando,” he answered, stepping up the ramp. “It’s good to see you.”

Lando had to back away to give Luke more room to step inside. Not that he minded. A little room was necessary at a time like this. And… “Not to suggest the opposite is true for me, but what are you doing here?”

“I thought it was time I do my part,” Luke answered, stepping aside as R2 rolled in after him, bleeping pleasantly at Chewie, filling the ship with more sound than Lando had heard in days.

“You’re doing more than enough—”

Luke’s gaze cut toward him, not quite as friendly, nowhere near as soft. “I’m where I want to be.”

Lando lifted his hands in supplication. Relief trickled, then surged, through him, a stream becoming a deluge. He’d come to love their talks over the comms, Lando had, but there was always something a little special about face-to-faces. Besides, another person on the ship might liven the place up a little. And Lando certainly wouldn’t mind that in the slightest. “In that case let me be the first to welcome you aboard.”

*

Luke hadn’t found his way onto the _Falcon_ before, not while it was under Lando’s care at least, and the effect of his arrival was immediate. He wouldn’t have gone so far as to say the place seemed brighter with Luke there—that would have been ridiculous, and not true. The _Falcon_ was every bit as smudgy and poorly lit as ever. It still carried grunge in its crevices that was probably older than all of them put together. There was enough wisdom in Lando’s heart to lead him to the right conclusion: it wasn’t the _Falcon_ that had changed.

It was him.

He was different when Luke was around. Or he felt different anyway.

He knew how to wear the best version of himself like a cloak, a mask. He knew how to put aside his less charitable characteristics and be the perfect Lando Calrissian, smooth, sophisticated, charitable. And he wouldn’t say it was hard. Hell, it got easier by the day. Even when the Empire wanted to crush him and everyone he cared about under the heel of its heaviest jackboot, it was easy enough to don that vestment. The Rebellion made it easy, too; it inspired the best in its people.

It was like Cloud City in that way, his very own jewel that turned everything around it to wealth and beauty. It, too, had inspired the same good in him. And sometimes in others.

He just never felt like his _truest_ self when he took up that mantle.

It was only when Luke looked at him that he could see the shape that best and true could take in him, harmonious and fully realized. Neither best nor true was a fabrication in those instances; they weren’t mutually exclusive.

That shape didn’t have to be a contradiction; it didn’t have to be a fantasy.

And, funnily enough, it looked just like Lando. Lando as he was. Not Lando the Baron Administrator. Not Lando the Scoundrel-Making-Good. Not Lando the Repentant Searching For His Friend.

He could shed layers when Luke was around instead of pulling more on. There was no need for theatrical playacting with him. He didn’t need vestments and mantles to hide and reveal himself in turns, whatever the situation called for. Probably Luke would have seen through all of it anyway.

It made Luke a danger. It made him a distraction.

It made Lando want things he couldn’t articulate.

It made the _Millennium Falcon_ seem like the tiniest two-man shuttle in the fleet.

But even so, Lando couldn’t say he hated it.

*

“We’ll get him back,” Luke said, leaning in the doorway to the quarters Lando had chosen for himself, less quarters than a bunk and four meager walls and a few inches in which to move around. They weren’t much. Han’s were better. But Lando couldn’t bring himself to take Han’s. He wasn’t sure if he hoped Luke had. Or Chewie even. “You know that, right?”

“I don’t know that,” Lando said, pushing himself up. He’d been staring at the ceiling, his fingers drumming against his abdomen, lost in a thought he couldn’t recall now that Luke had interrupted him. “How long have you been standing there?”

Luke smiled and it only served to highlight how different he was now. He’d grown up or grown old, Lando couldn’t decide, a delayed reaction to losing Han maybe. The last time they’d seen one another, he’d seemed so much more…

Lando didn’t know. Not innocent. Not naïve. But different.

“Not long,” Luke answered. He gestured around the room, finger pointing this way and that at nothing in particular and everything in aggregate. “May I?”

Twisting on the bed, throwing his legs over the side, he nodded. “Sorry the accommodations aren’t better.”

“That’s all right. I don’t expect they’ll ever change.” He took a seat at Lando’s side, close enough that their thighs touched and Lando could reach out and grab Luke’s hand if he wanted to. “Besides, I like them well enough.”

“You’re the only one.” But if anyone would, it was Luke. Lando had no doubt about that. If Han hadn’t won her out from under him, he’d planned on having the living quarters expanded a bit. Nothing extensive, but they could’ve done with a renovation or two. He’d forgotten all about that plan until right this moment. “I even heard Chewbacca complaining about them once or twice.”

“I’m sure he has.”

A silence fell between them, uncomfortable on Lando’s end of it at least. “So, uh, what can I do for you?”

“Nothing,” Luke answered. He looked up at the ceiling and rubbed at his elbow. Then, rolling his neck, he peered sidelong at Lando. “You’re already doing it.”

“Doing what?”

Luke glanced back at the ceiling. “Keeping me company.”

And because Lando had no good answer for that, he said nothing. If Luke wanted company, Lando sure as hell would give it to him.

*

They leaned over a datapad, heads bent together as they scrolled through the information offered on a datacard Lando had paid a not insignificant number of credits for. Sightings, flight recordings, what traces of Boba Fett he could scrape and scrounge together without Cloud City’s resources backing him.

Considering the cost, it didn’t amount to much.

If only Lobot was here. He was sure the man could’ve worked some magic even Luke would find surprising.

“Where the hell would he have taken him?” Lando asked, fingers pinching at his chin absently. “Where would Jabba want him stowed?”

“I’d have thought Tatooine,” Luke said, equally absent, a fierce frown marring the staidness of his expression. “Jabba’s the kind of slug who’d want his prize close to him.”

“You know something about Jabba?”

Luke snorted and crossed his arms. “I grew up there. I know enough.”

Lando’s brow arched of its own accord as the rest of him wasn’t nearly so surprised to justify the expression. “Maybe Fett got one over on us. He _is_ a bounty hunter of some skill. He’s been working this long anyway and hasn’t been caught up in Imperial nets anyway. It’s possible we missed something…” Lando didn’t want to think about the possibility. He’d taken the lead on this. It was his responsibility if Boba Fett had gotten through without Lando noticing. “I thought Tatooine, too, but I didn’t get any indication that Han was there so I widened the search.”

Luke’s frown deepened; a furrow formed between his eyebrows. “This isn’t doing us any good.” He shook his head and clicked his tongue against his teeth, thoughtful. “Do you think it’s worth the risk?”

“What? Playing on Jabba’s turf?”

Luke nodded.

Lando seesawed his hand. Everything was a gamble these days. “I’m sure we could manage. Helps that you’re from the place. Like you said, we’re not getting anywhere out here. Probably oughta ask Chewbacca what he thinks, but I doubt he’ll have a problem being a little more proactive.”

“So it’s settled?”

Lando shrugged, helpless. What else could they do? “I guess it is.”

They couldn’t give up; that was for sure.

*

“Come on,” Luke said, dragging a light-colored, rough-spun square of fabric over his head, nearly knocking into Lando in the process. It was a piece of clothing—if Lando was willing to be generous about it—that wouldn’t have looked good on anyone. And yet when Luke’s head appeared through it, it was less unappealing than it should have been. And suddenly, the back of the shuttle felt uncomfortably warm even by his own standards. Lando tried to play it off as being due to sitting in a metal can under a pair of hot suns, but his ability to bluff even himself was limited. “You could try to blend in.”

“This is me blending in,” Lando answered, drawing his hands down his torso to indicate the pale shirt and dark trousers he was wearing. “Unfortunately, Han’s sense of style is a bit one-note.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “You look like a tourist.”

“Han never looked like a tourist. How am I any different? I’m wearing his clothes.”

Smiling fondly, Luke grabbed a second abomination from the crate at his feet and threw it at Lando. Just outside was Luke’s home and, Lando hoped, Han. He thought it should have felt different being here, but mostly he felt exactly the same—no closer or further from his goal than before.

“Where did you even find these?” Lando asked, unfurling it and trying to find a reasonable way to wear it. There was no way he was putting it over his head, that was for sure. Throwing it around his shoulders, he tucked two of the corners in around his neck, most of it falling around his arms and down his back in a way that was almost pleasing.

“Does it matter?” Luke scrutinized him from head to foot and either approved or gave in, Lando wasn’t sure. Either way, he nodded and swept his hand toward the hatch. “Just be glad I couldn’t find any hats.”

Lando wasn’t sure what that meant, but as he stepped outside, the glare of Tatooine’s twin suns blazing directly into his eyes, he decided some things were better left unanswered. Lifting his hand to his forehead, he squinted and waited for Luke.

He just hoped this wasn’t a bad idea—the longer they took, the colder the trail got, the lower their chances were. “So where are we going?” he asked as Luke reached his side.

Luke scanned the Mos Eisley spaceport, eyes landing on a handful of the buildings that dotted their surroundings. People and creatures milled about, along with a few stormtroopers—which… Lando was beginning to wish Luke had brought hats if they were going to face Imperial scrutiny, too—while a handful of landspeeders sped to and fro.

The smell was indescribable, dusty and dry and somehow foul with earth and musk all at once.

Lando couldn’t imagine growing up here—and he’d come from Socorro, which wasn’t exactly the friendliest environment either. At least there was something to see there besides sand.

“Let’s get some lodgings,” Luke said, pointing toward a building that looked exactly the same as every other building. How Luke managed to peg it as accommodations was lost on Lando.

“You’re the boss,” Lando answered, dubious, following behind, careful to avoid kicking up sand as he walked.

*

It wasn’t that Lando didn’t know how to wait. He did. He’d learned how to hold back. He knew when to push. He’d gotten himself into and out of so many scrapes through sheer strength of will, through calculation and tact and deftness, that sometimes he forgot there was an impulsive bone in his body.

Which, he supposed, was how he got himself into this situation. The whole of it. Starting with the deal with Vader and ending with…

Ending with Luke walking through the door, defeat putting the slow look of sadness in his eyes and an unhappy twist on his lips. He didn’t have to say anything for Lando to know it was no dice. Again.

Today was no different than the day before was no different than the day before that. Or any of the days that had come before to be honest. Nothing about this moment was unusual. They’d been at this for over a week on Tatooine alone—and that wasn’t counting the many months of searching Lando had put in before. Chewie was off searching elsewhere in the Outer Rim just to cover their bases and so far he’d come up empty, too.

At this rate, it seemed like they’d never find Han.

And that was… unacceptable to a degree Lando found startling.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Luke asked and Lando, for all the words he spoke on a daily basis, had no answer. Everything was wrong. Yet all the same, Luke found it in him to worry about Lando on top of everything else. There was nothing in the galaxy that could fix this; nothing could fix him either except moving forward, doing their job, getting Han back.

But distractions, distractions could be found.

No, not distractions. Luke wasn’t a distraction; he was better than the tawdry implication of that word. Luke was like… he was a pillar, a rock, solid and so very immovably real. But even rocks could be ground to dust and sand and grit. Water and wind would do as much of a number on him as even the most delicate of nature’s offerings. It just might take longer and go unnoticed until there was nothing left of the rock to care about.

But Lando noticed. And if there was one thing he was good at, it was improving things—for himself and for the people around him. Nothing would work long-term until they got Han back, but…

Getting to his feet, chair, datapad, and small table forgotten, he strode across the floor, his boots a bare whisper against the smooth, rug-covered clay. Luke peered up at him as he drew closer, head tilting curiously. “What are you—?”

The trouble was he liked Luke. A lot. Enough that he wished they’d been able to spend time together because they wanted to, not because there was a life on the line. A selfish part of him wished they’d met any other way or that they could forget for five minutes what brought them together.

Understanding flickered in Luke’s eyes despite no answer from Lando, a flame lit to smoldering, and it required nothing more than a nod from Lando for him to reach up and press his palm against Lando’s cheek, slide it down to settle on his jaw, his neck, where surely he felt Lando’s pulse beating a rapid, bounding rhythm.

“We will get him back,” Luke said, a calm, certain center around which Lando could grab hold and believe. His gaze caught on Lando’s mouth briefly before returning to his eyes, like he was waiting for confirmation before making a move. And how the tables had turned so quickly, Lando couldn’t rightly say, but Lando also couldn’t say he wasn’t perfectly willing to go along for the ride.

A breath shuddered through Lando at the feather light press of Luke’s fingers and he was pushed easily backward by the barest increase of pressure from that touch. His calves hit the solid platform on which the bed sat and he had to duck to keep from hitting the top of it—apparently they liked to put beds into the wall instead of the floor on Tatooine.

“Have faith,” Luke said, his hands heavy on Lando’s shoulders, pushing him down. “Have faith in what we’re doing.”

He couldn’t bring himself to say he didn’t know how.

But he could reach out for Luke and trust in him instead. He’d never been very good at it, trusting other people; he trusted in psychology and greed and basic common sense and sometimes irrationality, but Luke made him want to. And sometimes, wanting was as good as being.

“Okay,” he answered in a whisper, barely there, meant to be easily overlooked. They could both ignore it if they decided to. And Lando… Lando wasn’t sure he wanted that. “Okay, I can do that.” As he shifted so he could recline against the thin, rough pillow and pull his legs up, Luke straddled his thighs. It made kicking his boots free awkward—more than awkward—but Lando didn’t much care and from the way Luke tugged at his shirt, Luke didn’t much care either.

A laugh caught in his throat. What would Han think now?

“What’s funny?” Luke asked, his own voice taking on a hushed, almost reverent quality, and definitely edged with amusement, hoping to share in the joke maybe.

Lando was happy to oblige even though, as far as jokes went, it wasn’t his best.

“I don’t think Han’s gonna want this shirt back.”

Luke’s mouth quirked upward and he tilted his head slightly in concession as he drew his face close, their lips close enough that Lando felt the warmth of his breath on his face. There was a hint of mischief in his too-blue eyes that only suggested there was more where that came from if Lando knew how to get at it. “I’ll buy him a new one.”

Luke shifted slightly, his thighs tightening on either side of Lando’s as he gripped said shirt and pulled it up Lando’s abdomen. He pressed soft-mouthed kisses against his sides, along the length and curve of his ribs. Lando should’ve been stunned—he hadn’t imagined Jedi were particularly affectionate in the physical sense—but it came as little surprise that Luke would dwell on something so… comforting.

As Lando took over the task of getting his shirt off, he brushed at his eyes and drew in a deep breath. It had been a long time since he’d let someone touch him this way. It had been longer still since the person doing the touching meant as much to him as Luke did.

Tossing the shirt aside, he pressed his fingers under Luke’s chin, drawing him up and inviting him to sprawl along his side.

He wanted to take his time. Whether they did this again or not didn’t matter. Lando had always been an ‘accept every gift that comes your way’ kind of guy. But he still needed…

He needed Luke’s hand splayed across his chest, twined with his own, his mouth within kissing distance, those eyes looking into his like Lando had surprised and pleased him just by being here. “Luke, I…”

“I know.” He leaned up and bit at Lando’s mouth, pressing his lips, light, against Lando’s. “Me, too.”

This wasn’t how he thought he’d end the day, not with Luke’s hand slipping toward the waistband of his pants, but there was only one place he’d rather be than here and that was a miracle all on its own. For the first time in months, something felt good instead of terrible.

That, too, was worth celebrating.

Lando was pretty good at celebrating.

*

Lando woke slowly, sure despite the lack of windows that Tatooine’s suns were rising slow and smooth in the sky, bleeding red and pink and yellow across the sand. He wasn’t sure how he knew; they hadn’t been on Tatooine long enough for him to adjust to local time, but he was sure if he got up, he knew what he’d see outside.

The fact that he didn’t want to get up was another matter entirely. And the fact that Luke remained a heavy weight half draped across him didn’t make him any more inclined to move. “You’re awake,” Luke said, his voice a warm slurry, his eyelashes tickling against Lando’s neck.

“I didn’t know you were,” Lando answered, his hand tightening around Luke’s shoulder.

“Yeah.” Luke stretched, his joints popping as he moved, and yawned as he readjusted himself. “Have been for a while. I didn’t want to wake you.”

Biting back a smile, Lando willed himself not to feel warm all over at that pronouncement. He failed, of course, and found himself both touched and happy at the gesture and the implication. Luke could probably sense it through the Force—Lando still wasn’t sure what all a Jedi could and couldn’t do despite all the tales he’d heard about them—but he couldn’t bring himself to mind.

His fingers walked their way up Luke’s neck to tangle in his hair.

Breathing a contented sigh, Luke kissed the jut of Lando’s clavicle, grazed his teeth lightly against the skin stretched tight across it when Lando shivered. “I, uh, have an idea,” Luke said after a moment, his breath warm against Lando’s sternum. “About Han.”

“Mmm,” Lando answered, amused. “And what’s Leia going to think about that?”

Luke groaned. “To find out where he is. Not… this.”

“Does it involve infiltrating Jabba’s lair?”

Nose wrinkling, Luke huffed. “How’d you know?”

To be honest, the idea just popped into his head, but Lando wasn’t about to admit as much and destroy the mystique. Let Luke figure it out for himself. “What else can we do at this point? The slug’s keeping a tight lid on it.” Shrugging, jostling Luke slightly, he added, “But I bet he can’t keep his mouth shut behind closed doors.”

Sighing, this time more aggrieved than peaceful, Luke nodded. “That’s what I was thinking.”

“Good thing you’re friends with a man who knows his way around a con.”

Luke pushed himself upright, brushed his hand across his forehead, and peered down at Lando, serious, not concerned exactly, but not distant either. “I wasn’t suggesting you do it.”

Lando crooked a smile. “Are you kidding me? I’ve done stuff like this a hundred times. You might’ve snuck onto an Imperial battle station and come back from it, but I’ve lied my way through the Empire before. And I grew up around petty criminals and bounty hunters. I can handle Jabba the Hutt and his entourage.”

Luke’s lip went pink and flushed from how hard he bit it, his gaze taking on a faraway quality. His head cocked to the side and he closed his eyes, a furrow forming between them as he concentrated. Lando thought he felt something, a charge in the air, an unnatural breeze, but he wasn’t sure what it was and didn’t think asking was appropriate. What would he even say? _Did you do that?_

“Are you sure?” Luke asked.

Lando gave him his brightest, most certain smile, the one that earned trust and goodwill wherever he deployed it. “Positive.”

And now that they had a real plan, Lando allowed himself to relax. It wasn’t a perfect plan. It wasn’t even a good one. But right here and now, he knew that they’d succeed. And once they took care of this, he was going to make sure Luke knew just how much this meant to him, what they were doing, what they will have done together.

Later, they’ll get up. Lando’ll probably sketch out the skeleton of a character, pace the floor while Luke watches, help him talk his way through a plausible scenario. They’ll figure out how they’ll communicate, who else will be involved, what signals they’ll use and when. Later, they’ll go to work.

But now, just for a few more moments, Lando remained still and Luke settled back, too, relief flooding through him at the realization that Luke was right. They would do this. Han would come home.

Between the two of them and Chewie and Leia, everything would be just fine.

He could rely on that.


End file.
